"You've just said you would! The murder of a helpless woman, with little children depending on her!"
Mary's grey eyes blazed with anger, and the Judge, cowed, continued to splutter excuses with his mouth full.
"Now, Mary! I tell you I don't defend what he did! But he did have something on his side, she didn't treat him well—?"
"Treat him well! He came back, wouldn't work, took her money for drink, beat her—Judge, I'm ashamed of you, to make excuses for such a man!"
The Judge, not liking his post of whipping-boy, glanced reproachfully at the real culprit. Carlin pushed back his chair and lit a cigar.
"Don't abuse the Judge, I got him to do it," he said coolly. "And I did it because I was sorry for the man and because he hasn't a friend on earth, nobody to look to but me, and he isn't half so bad as you think. But you've made up your mind and you don't want to hear anything on the other side. You just want him punished."
"Of course I do!" she cried.
"Well, now, I can't understand why you good church-people are so hard on sinners. Your religion doesn't teach that."
Mary flushed slowly at the bitterness of this speech.
"It doesn't teach us to defend sin," she answered. "But I don't think you know what it does teach."